


Heart Throb

by DickBaggins



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anxiety, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, First Time, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-10-10 04:16:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10428885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DickBaggins/pseuds/DickBaggins
Summary: Jared does not do well with change and at 16, his whole life is groundless and shifting, reeling sharp from a year and a half of instability. But he's always felt at home in the Ackles' house, even if their parents have gone their separate ways. Uninvited and impulsive, Jared just needs to see Jensen one more time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Standard age gap of four years applies! This part isn't explicit but others will be. I'll update the tags accordingly.

It didn't used to take this long when he drove.

Not that he was the one driving so maybe it was just passenger-time speeding everything up.

On Jared's bike, it's almost an hour. Trees that sped by when he was encased in glass and metal don't go past him so fast. No sounds but his breath heavy-hot and the click-click of his tires when before it was his mom singing to the radio, tapping her nails against the steering wheel.

Jared looks behind him endlessly for her car but he's not running away, he's not and they all know it. It's a tantrum, you're just mad, you're a kid. It'll pass, it'll be better tomorrow.

At this rate, he'll be biking home when tomorrow hits and no, it won't be better, thank you very much.

The Ackles live out in the suburbs behind a fence _and_ a gate but the white-painted iron stands open, inviting, a sign. Jared hops off his bike before the first security camera, just in case someone's watching, just in case someone mistakes the low-speed blur of his knobby limbs on a bike for something nefarious.

Sweat drenches his t-shirt, dove-grey v-neck so every droplet stands out and colours it dark, still darker from his hair dripping and jesus, he should have thought of this. How he'd look. How he'd feel too: bone-tired, legs quivering just walking up the winding driveway.

They have a garage, the Ackles, a four-door low building bigger than Jared's mom's place _and_ his dad's put together. He's been in it. They don't use it for cars much and there's only the slick navy Jeep in the drive by the house, which means...

Jared's coming-down heart flutters faster and he tugs at the hem of his shirt, already misshapen, stretching more and it didn't fucking fit to begin with because nothing does, nothing fits.

He dumps his too-small bike by the red brick steps, pauses, walks up. Four stairs then four fancy white columns then the big double door. Jared wishes it would just open, wishes they'd sail open, welcoming, ushering him in Disney-style with birds singing and everything but he has to knock and he fucking hates knocking.

(Hates knocking, hates making phone calls, hates texting first, hates watching online-away-offline-do-not-disturb-offline on Skype before he's worked up the nerve to do anything about it.)

But he's come this far, he's pushed his kid bike all the way to the country and maybe he won't have to push it back by some miracle. So Jared knocks skinned knuckles against hard wood and steps back and looks at his shoes, puts the heel of left on the toe of right and presses in until it hurts.

The first time he was here, he was little-boy dressed up in khaki shorts and a tie and in some shoes he outgrew that summer. He wasn't nervous back then, just bored and itchy, disaffected, Dr. Warner would say (and says that a lot still).

This time, this thousandth-millionth time isn't familiar, is terrible and it's too late to reconsider. What if there's a girl in there? What if there's a girl and he's interrupting something sweet and sacred and secret and maybe if there's no answer at the door, he can creep into the backyard. There's a trellis he can climb to the second floor. There's the patio door that opens to the living room. There's the tiny basement window too, where you can see the lowest level with the huge screen tv and the couch that takes up the whole room.

No footsteps before the door throws open and it's _him_ , it's Jensen fucking Ackles barefoot in swim trunks and a backwards baseball hat and not a stitch else. The ends of his hair are wet, drip gentle onto his shoulders, tan and hard and he's too dark for the freckles to really be out, but they're there. His nipples are always hard and dusty rose and he's soft and strong and he double-takes at Jared. A half-smile creeps onto his pink-pink lips and ghosts away again.

“Dude,” Jensen says, like a laugh.

Jared's guts twist.

Jensen's going to march him into that Jeep and drive him right home again. Or worse: call his mom, ask her if she's lost something when she doesn't even know he's gone.

“Hi,” Jared offers, blinks like he's staring at the sun.

They're the same height now, Jared realises with a spike behind his eyelids and a tightening of his throat. Even if he toed his shoes off, they'd be the same height.

Jensen looks around him and then back, frowning a little. “Just you, huh? All this way?”

Jared nods like it's all he can do. His t-shirt sticks to his back, cooling in the country breeze.

Jensen asks, “Why?”

And Jared feels his face crumple in ugly because he's crying. He squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see it. People don't like it when you cry and Jensen isn't going to like it and he just spent an hour on his bike to fall apart in front of him.

It's not sweet crying, it's not like some romance novel heroine tossing herself on a silk bed, shedding beautiful tears onto quivering lips. It's hard and stupid and Jared's squatting on his haunches the next second, heels of his hands pressed into his eyes so Jensen can't see him anymore. Maybe if he makes himself small enough, he can just disappear. Maybe it's good that he can't get a breath in his lungs because then maybe he'll stop altogether.

“Whoa, hey,” is Jensen and it's distant, static-broken through Jared's own sobs and nothing might be better because he doesn't deserve Jensen's sweet voice. Or the drape of his arm over his shoulder or anything else that's going to happen. It'd be better if he were cruel.

He can't apologize, he can't talk. He can't explain himself. Jared curls in and compresses everything and diamonds come from coal. The universe is stupid, oddly ordered if it's ordered at all.

Jensen pulls him up and out, sweet-talking, dove-cooing, nothing and glorious everything. He's stronger than he used to be because Jared's bigger and he's full-weight leaning and sniffling and baby-sobbing.

Five, six years ago, his mom pulled him across this doorway by the hand and now it's Jensen. Never thought he'd be back here again, thought it was over forever but thank god _thank god._ It smells like lemons and freshness, Christmasses and all those popsicle summers and Jared sobs the smells in harder.

The Jensen-smell too that's changed but not. He's warm and strong and Jared nearly skids to a stop in the hallway, burying against warmth and soft skin and _JensenJensenJensen._

So Jared can hang on a few more seconds.

In the kitchen (it's the same everything's the same and it's home if anything's home) Jensen tucks Jared into the breakfast nook, ruffles his hair, gets him tissues, asks, “Your mom know you came?”

Jared wipes the sweat and tears away, shakes his head, little-boy mute like the first time they met, watching Jensen with wide eyes. Scared he'll get sent away so he considers lying even after he's told the truth but keeps quiet.

Jensen nods, goes for a cabinet, skinny-muscled back rippling golden. He gets the pitcher, _the_ pitcher that's stained unnatural-red still and he gets _the_ spoon, sunshine yellow long handle, only good for this. He doesn't need to ask, he just does this.

The red packet of Kool-Aid had to be in the cupboard for a year or more but those things don't expire and they always had plenty on hand. Cold water runs from the tap, the bag of sugar makes an appearance. Jensen stirs and dials a phone.

Jared slumps against the window, knows the view out there like the back of his hand so he doesn't need to look, only sits up when Jensen leans against the counter and talks, voice louder than with him alone.

“Ms. P? Hey, how's it going? Nice to hear you too.”

That's it, Jared's got half an hour left here, he's sure of it. The sobs start deep in his chest but no sound comes out, just breath he can't get back.

“So listen, did Jared tell you he was coming over this weekend?” Jensen's got his elbows on the counter, scratching his calf with his other foot, lying lying so sweet. “Yeah, I thought he forgot to mention it. No trouble, I picked him up already, I'll bring him to school Monday.”

Sobs stop but Jared's breath doesn't come back, just sticks in his lungs, in his throat. Lying for him and it's the _best_.

“Yeah, spring break. Nope, no parties, you know how I am.”

Jared actually feels a smile tugging at his lips.

“We should, we should have lunch sometime. You take care too. Alright. Bye.” Jensen drops the phone, sighs and rolls his eyes. “You don't owe me this time, Jay, but if there's a next time, so help me God.”

Stirring resumes. The pitcher is semi-opaque so Jared watches (like he used to, always) the white sugar swirling with red-red Kool-aid, a tornado in the center and he feels better already for all the old things in the old ways.

Jared just nods again, leans back against the window and enjoys the secret thrill of Jensen walking to him, serving him sugary sweetness like he'd done countless times before. He stops right in front of Jared, pitcher and glasses in his hand, nudging Jared's tired legs.

“Move.”

He does, slips into the booth-seating so Jensen can sit beside him. “Your mother says you've been 'quite the handful',” he says, mocking a prim adult voice that sounds nothing like his mother or anyone else's.

Jared shrugs. He didn't move over very far so Jensen jams against him and it's just what he wanted. He hasn't been so close to anyone in a very long time. Hasn't wanted it either. But this is different.

The red drink sparkles in the white and yellow kitchen, catches the late afternoon sun as Jensen pours it into the tall glasses. He forgot the straws, but Jared isn't going to tell him.

“You could just call me. Or text me. You don't have to dehydrate yourself racing out here.” His scolding is just gentle, not real, not harsh. He's never that way. “It's been a year, I think, right?”

Jared nods again, reaching for his glass and yeah, he's probably dehydrated because nothing's ever tasted so good and it's just how he likes it, too-sweet, almost cloying. Cherry doesn't taste like this, not really, but it doesn't matter. Half the glass down and he wipes his mouth on his arm, gritty from the gravelly ride out of town.

“You got big. Tall as me now?”

Jared nods again, slouches over so it's not so evident. “I don't like it,” he admits, scowling. “I'm clumsy. I eat so much and I'm too skinny, still. I don't know how to fix it.”

Jensen pushes a chuckle out his nose. “You're sixteen, Jay, that's how it works. Everything goes crazy for a few years. It'll even out.”

“I look like a scarecrow.”

“You look like you need a shower and a nap.”

He nods because, yeah, both those things would be great. And, “Can I really stay all weekend? Won't your dad think it's weird?”

“He's in Palm Springs.”

“Oh.”

“All week. So. We're good.”

“You weren't having anyone over?”

“Nope.”

“You told my mom you were on spring break. Isn't that like, with girls and beer and - “

“Oh my god, I'm in community college, Jay. No one does that.”

_Good_ , Jared thinks, doesn't say, but good. Even just two and a half days might make him feel normal again, might stop the aching want that saps his strength and lives deep-dark in his bones.

“Thanks.” Jared says, quiet, eyes down, face pink-hot.

“Mhmm.”

At least he doesn't have to specify. It's obvious like how everything between them is obvious. He's sure of it, sure Jensen can see right through him but then if he could, if he could do that, he might not be sitting so still beside him.

 

* * *

 

Jared decides on a swim instead of a shower proper, hoses himself off quick and jumps into the warm, clean water just as the sun starts to dips down. In a pair of Jensen's trunks because he doesn't have any here anymore and even if he did, they wouldn't fit.

Jensen's close behind, staying afloat with his hat still on. Siren, mermaid, naiad, nix, he's everything beautiful in the water with sea-green eyes to match and a tan that Jared's sure goes everywhere (because it used to, it always used to). He can't stop staring, treading water, soaring circles around him until Jensen corners him in the shallows.

“Seriously Jay, why'd you come?”

It'd be easy to slip under the water, scurry past him, play chase like they used to but even in the water, Jared's too tired to play games.

“Did you know I'd be home?”

Jared scowls, shakes his head, watches water drops fly and twin with the ones on Jensen's shoulders. “How'd I know?”

“Facebook?”

“Ew. I hate Facebook.”

He does, he doesn't. Jensen posts picture sometimes; food he's eating (so many tacos), his workouts (Jared lives for back day), bar-hopping (he looks so good when he's buzzed and in bad lighting and Jared can easily ignore everyone hanging off of him. There's always people hanging off of him). But Jared doesn't stalk, at least. He isn't that far gone. Not yet.

“So?” Jensen's eyebrows shoot up and he's so close, Jared can make out every bright fleck in his eyes, every single one. They're rimmed darker, they contain everything in the universe and he can't not tell him everything.

“I dunno,” Jared starts with another shrug, “Mom was fighting with me. She does that a lot now, it's annoying. Like, just 'cause she's not happy doesn't mean she has to make everyone else miserable. Anyway. I ran out. Not like, away. Just out. Took my bike. Didn't even know where I was headed until I was like, halfway here and then it was too late to turn around and...I dunno. I didn't want to turn around anyway. It was nice, all the trees and stuff? And the quiet. City's too loud.”

Jensen looks like he's taking it all in, treading water, one hand reaching past Jared to lean on the edge of the pool. “Miss it here?”

Jared lowers his eyes away from the actual concentrated sunshine in front of him but it doesn't help; they're only inches away in the water, and it's so easy to move a little closer so he can actually feel the heat of Jensen. He nods though, heaves out a breath that shakes him and impulsively rests an arm over Jensen's shoulder, lets his fingers curl around the back of his neck.

He was happy here, happiest here and the ghost of those feelings, of all those days and nights scratches at the back of his head. He wants to stay, always wanted to.

Jared kisses Jensen like he wanted to from the first second he opened the door. Sweet, slow. One leg tangles around Jensen's under the water. Jared's lips are wet, Jensen's just soft, plush-pink perfect. He doesn't kiss back but he doesn't pull away. His eyes are closed when Jared opens his so he shuts them again, shuts everything out but this, the tread of the water and the closeness and the feeling that he belongs, for once, that he's safe as can be.

It isn't anything more than a chaste press of lips. Jared doesn't need anything more.

When he pulls back, when his eyes open, Jensen's looking at him, biting his lip, flickering his eyes up and down Jared's face. That attention makes him blush, makes him feel like he's falling off a cliff in the sweetest way.

He grins wide and ducks under the water with a huge breath, swims fast through Jensen's legs and towards the deep end, doesn't emerge until he's at the other end of the pool. He catches Jensen staring, first wide-eyed and then something else, a determined squint. He throws his hat off onto the warm patio stones and dives under, as majestic under the water as on land, as anything anywhere. He grabs at Jared's legs under the water until Jared kicks away, swims off again, and they play chase until it's dark, until the backyard is lit up with timed globe lights.

The lights inside the pool come on too and they illuminate Jensen up like a god, like some heliotropic model no one can ever rightfully have because can't belong to anyone, just to the world, to the ages, to Jared's memories. After this weekend, he's sure that's the only place he can count on seeing him again.

 

* * *

 

They eat, order pizza, play video games until Jared trounces Jensen too many times at Super Smash Bros. That hasn't changed either and thank god; it's about the only thing Jared can best him at.

Since they finished eating, Jared's been quietly wrestling with another knot of anxiety, wondering where he's going to sleep. There's two guest bedrooms and he knows them well; one looks out to the front yard and the other to the back. One's beside Jensen's room, at least, and the other...well, it's as far away as you can get.

Turns out, he doesn't even have to ask.

It's a little after midnight. Jensen peels himself off the couch (opposite end), turns off the TV. He yawns, full-body stretches and Jared watches greedily, covets the slip of his trunks down lower on his hips, the gape of his mouth wide, wide open and the tender noise that sighs out.

“Tired. You tired, Jay? Helluva bike ride.”

“Yeah,” Jared answers. But his heart beats so fast, so strong, he isn't sure he'll be able to sleep. Still, he gets up, shuffles behind Jensen up the stairs, longs to take his hand and walk beside him instead of a step behind, hopes-prays and it works because Jensen stops in front of his bedroom.

Jensen turns, scratches the back of his neck, sleepy eyes narrowing. “Y'think we can still fit in one bed?”

He's even more beautiful when he's shy.

Jared nods, then shrugs. “We'll make it work.”

He's rewarded with a tiny smirk that feels like a lot more.

“Alrght, I'm gonna...bathroom. Pjs are - “

“Bottom drawer?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah.

Jared picks the ones he remembers the most, light grey cotton he won't ever fill out as much as Jensen did. He used to have a picture, somewhere. Jensen on his stomach spread out sleeping, all ass and that was two years ago, maybe. So it's better now.

His room's the same. Sheets are different but everything else is the same. He's fastidious; no posters, just dark blue walls, dark grey sheets, white furniture. Jared flops on his back on the bed with a sigh, spreading out. The bed's softer than his, smells like Jensen, feels like home.

When the bathroom door creaks open, he doesn't move. When the bed dips beside him, he doesn't move. He closes his eyes and pretends this is a forever kind of thing, that they're in a different universe, the one where everything went right.

Jared swears it exists when he closes his eyes.

Jensen elbow-nudges him in the side and it kind of ruins everything.

“You fall asleep, Jay?”

“No. Just...thinking.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jared opens his eyes to Jensen's.

He's on his stomach (like that picture) but he's naked and his head's cradled in his arms and he's looking right at Jared. “About?”

Jared rolls his eyes; like he doesn't know. He's going to make Jared say it and here he is, saying it. “You.”

“Gross.”

“I _know_.”

They both laugh, Jensen closes his eyes, lashes fanning out cray long, casting shadows on his cheeks. They're impossible, all of him is and yeah, it's totally disgusting that Jared can't stop thinking about him.

Jensen opens his eyes again and they stay that way, boring into Jared in so many ways. He reaches out, pets at Jared's hair and it's too much.

“I haven't kissed anyone else, y'know,” Jared blurts out, cheeks pink and hot.

Jensen smiles just a little so that's worth something. “You can.”

“I don't want to.”

“You s _hould_ ”

“No, 'cause f I don't, then I just stay like, yours. I'll stay like that forever, that's what I want.”

“Don't do that.”

“ _You_ don't have to.” There's never anything on Facebook abut girlfriends or boyfriends or hookups or anything, just a herd of friends but Jared isn't even curious, doesn't even care. “You can do whatever you want.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, tucks some of Jared's hair back behind his ear. “Gee, thanks.”

It's coming out wrong but then there wasn't really another way it was going to come out. It's vaguely creepy and messed up but Jared likes it that way. It works.

“So you're gonna – what? Save yourself?”

“I dunno.”

Anyone else and it'd hurt but Jensen's soft voice dulls all the edges, makes it pleasant to hear.

Jared sighs, closes his eyes, shuffles just a little closer on the bed. Just an inch, just two or three then four. Then Jensen's head is so close, he can feel the breathe, toothpaste sweet mint, cool-hot.

“It's not like I want anyone else to touch me anyway. It's not like anyone _wants_ to.”

“ _That's_ bullshit.”

Jared frowns a little, full on doesn't understand. He's too small for his body, too big for how he feels inside. Maybe there's something else, something he doesn't get. But then, Jensen's always looked at him vaguely like this, sparkle-eyes, gentle patience, has to be love-lust-want but Jared never bothered to consider _why_.

“You're like... _dreamy_.”

“'m not,” Jared answers in a whisper, turns his head away to the other side.

_Dreamy_.

Not that it matters.

Day one of three and already Jared doesn't want to leave. Everything's so much better here, in Jensen's bed, in his room. This house, this headspace.

“They should've just got married.,” he sighs out like he's been holding onto it for a year, for more.

“Yeah, well. Grown ups,” Jensen sighs back. His hand's still on Jared's shoulder, fingertips brushing at his collarbone where it sticks out too much.

“You're a grown up,” Jared says, sudden and it's strange. He's said it before, he knows, said it in this room when Jensen turned 18. But he didn't look grown up like he looks now. His face is bigger, he's filled out just about everywhere; at 18, even 19, he could still pass for high school but not now.

“I'm _not_ ,” Jensen huffs.

Jared looks over again and throbs with weird hurt that Jensen does look different, not a ton, just enough. “You look like it. And you're in college. And you're busy all the time. Probably.”

“You don't even know what you're talking about. You never even talk to me, how d'you even know anything?”

“I hate calling people.”

“Even me.”

“Especially you. Always feel like I'm interrupting something.”

“So. Text me.”

“That's even worse,” Jared groans a little, flings one arm over his eyes. “I just stare at the stupid little window and look at all our old texts and type stuff out and erase it again like a thousand times. I never know what to say.”

“Hi's good. For starters,” Jensen laughs out quietly and it's not like he's making fun, it's just lovely, lovely sound. “It really bugs you?”

“Yeah. Makes me anxious,” he parrots what Dr. Warner labels it and figures it's accurate enough. Still, he draws out the offending word long and slow, makes a joke out of it.

Jensen doesn't.

“So...I'll text you first. If I call, you'd pick it up?”

Just the thought of his phone lighting up, saying 'Jensen calling' is thrilling, kind of life-altering and nerve-wracking but fuck yes, he'll pick it up.

“Yeah. Probably.”

“Weirdo. Pick up your damn phone.”

“I _will_ , okay?” Jared mumbles.

The reward: Jensen laughs tired and rolls as close as he can get. He feels overheated against Jared, big and warm but they still fit. Before, it was forever Jared's head on Jensen's chest but the reverse is startling and perfect and after too long waiting, Jared slips his hands onto Jensen. In his hair, on his back.

Jared nearly cries again, feels it bubbling fast and harsh up from his stomach, knocking the air out of him but he holds it, holds on, wells up, sighs it out.

“I miss you too, y'know,” Jensen says, sighs with his last waking breath.

And no. No, Jared did not know, did not even suspect such a thing were possible but he feels it change him, feels everything hard inside smooth over.

Feels the weekend stretch out gloriously new, ripe with possibilities, in front of him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Usually, usually the first thing Jared hears when he wakes up is the dog downstairs on the ground floor. Owners leave early, dog barks at the window, 6am, every day. Barks until 6:30 or so when it sleeps. Or whatever. Then the buses start. Buses and trucks and kids who don't have any regard for the time of day. Weekends aren't any better.

Everything's quiet this morning though. Jared can't remember waking up so slow in a long time. So bleary slow. No clock to check, no alarm screaming, no mom thumping around the hall, so he shuts his eyes again. Opens them again to a crisp white ceiling and Jensen's, he's at Jensen's, he's in Jensen's room and that's the heat he's curled up against. They switched at some point and Jared's curled long-limbed around Jensen and he's so warm, they're both so warm under the bare sheet even with the window open.

Birdsong instead of trucks.

Jared misses it so much in that second, misses it even though he's here, he has to close his eyes again.

Everything is lovely for a few seconds after that, before he realizes.

Realizes he's woke up stiff-dicked and that's nothing new, that's every day but it's jammed against Jensen and he goes high-red in the face. Tries to pull away but it's just a gentle rut that makes him gasp instead, that makes him so much hotter than he already is.

He can't, he really can't and he shouldn't but he keeps at it, choking back breathy moans. His dick leaks right away, usually, and he doesn't need to look down to know about the trail of wet he's leaving against Jensen's hip.

He has to stop.

Or else just...get off. Real quick.

Like he used to.

He resigns himself to it but he's older; can't excuse that shit anymore. So maybe.

Maybe it'd be okay. He's wearing pants after all. He can feign sleep. He can -

Jensen stirs and Jared panics thunderstorm-hard, rolls away and curls in on himself, one hand over his face, the other heeling against his stupid dick. He won't cry, he won't do it. He's nearly doing it anyway.

“Hey, hey,” Jensen croons sleepy at him, curls up behind him and presses against his shoulder.

It's too much, that close, that gentle. Too much.

“Hey, Jay?” Jensen kisses him on the shoulder there. So light and feathery Jared wonders if he imagined it but it happens again and it's doing nothing to help his situation. Not a damn thing.

“Mornin',” he heaves out with a quivering breath.

Jensen returns it with a hum against his skin and a slide closer and he slept naked and he's still naked and Jared must be blessed somehow because he's hard too. Hard and molten hot against his ass, humming again while he rocks slow.

He's bigger which is impossible but his dick is bigger-thicker-harder than Jared remembers and his hand, slipping over Jared's hipbone, curling around the almost-soaked cotton, is more insistent too. He presses over Jared's hand, undulates it.

Jared can't do anything but gasp.

No one's touched him for so long, since the last time, since it was just them in a fast food bathroom stall, tugging rough and desperate at each other. Jared can't remember if they knew that was the last time, can't remember what they knew at all besides how to make each other come.

He was smaller then, could press his head into Jensen's chest to muffle the moans.

Now he just uses his hand, clamps it over his mouth, old habit.

“Hey, Jay, we're alone,” Jensen reminds him, nearly a growl against his neck so he feels every syllable, every letter.

Still can't talk though. Jared gasps endlessly into his palm, bites at it a bit, feels his body go wire-taut until Jensen laughs into his shoulder, a deep satisfying rumble.

“Jay, relax. C'mon.” Jensen sounds like slow honey dripping and feels like hot heaven against him and when he says, “Roll over,” Jared does it.

It's a lot, looking at the sun so close. Jensen's got drowsy eyes but in the light of the room they're sea-green again, narrowed slits of light fluttering down Jared's tense body. The attention makes him blush harder but at least solidifies everything: this is not a dream. This is happening again.

And _this_ , this time could be the last time and what if it is?

Jared tries hard not to think that way, tries to just enjoy. His nerves thrum fast though, churning up his brain and his guts.

It's like Jensen knows, somehow.

He smiles gentle, brushes at Jared's floppy, sleep-mussed hair, tucks some away. “There you are.”

Jared nods dumbly, shakes in a breath and huffs it out and tries to get a regular breathing situation going on but they're sharing the same air, charged and swampy. And delicious even though it's morning breath, like Jensen's general other-worldliness exists in this situation too and Jared can't remember what it was like before when they'd wake up like this.

It was more of a game, then.

From Jensen's smile it could be but from the dangerous thrum in Jared's chest, it's most definitely not. Were they always at odds there? Always a game to one and not the other?

The thought races away fast, olympic-milliseconds because Jensen gets a hand on Jared's hip, thumbs the bone through cotton, just a little stop on his way towards Jared's dick. Too much, even through the fabric, to feel that hand curl around him again.

Jared squeezes his eyes shut again. His heartbeat assaults him, speedy and steady and he can feel it up to his eyeballs, under his tongue. Jensen's rough low laugh hits him the same way.

“Even your dick's bigger, Jay. Fuck, this growth spurt thing...wish I coulda seen it sooner.”

Jared still can't believe the adulation, any of it. He hums against it and jerks forward, tucks into Jensen and his hard dick brushes hot against skin stretching over hipbones. Jared's hum turns into a moan and his hand sinks between them to grab and squeeze, to press Jensen up against himself like he likes, like he used to like.

He still must because he grunts soft like music and pushes into Jared everywhere, mouth-first, tongue leading the charge.

Jared melts like butter.

It's artless and desperate, the traded handjobs and the ceaseless rutting. It's too long before Jensen tugs Jared out of his pants ( _his_ pants) and too fast before Jared spills between them, spills from his guts as much as his balls and his heart as much as anything. He trembles bone-deep, hides in Jensen again so when Jensen comes, he hears it through the speaker of his chest, feels it rumble through the both of them.

Mornings were the best, for this and this time is no exception or maybe it _is_ because it's outlier-good or maybe it's just been so long; Jared can't tell anymore, can't figure out what he's supposed to think.

“I'm gonna – c'mere – I'm gonna make you breakfast,” Jensen says, tilts Jared's head up and kisses the words into his mouth. “Pancakes, choc chip. Ten poundsa bacon. Coffee. So sweet it's gonna make your pretty teeth fall out.”

They're spent and sticky and still moving, can't stop moving and Jared knows he'll die if he stops, if _this_ stops.

“But you gotta shower first,” Jensen adds, slipping down Jared's sweaty neck, kissing him despite it, because of it, whatever. He sighs against Jared's salty skin, greenhouse-hot but Jared shivers anyway and nods, cranes his head up and up while Jensen kisses back to his mouth, dives in and enjoys the luxury for five minutes more.

 

* * *

 

 

Everything's so clean here, so bright white, Jared almost has to squint in the shower. There's a skylight so it's like he's outside and Jensen has his own bathroom so Jared knows this shampoo is his, this razor, this soap. He takes longer than he ought to under the stream of hot water. The waterfall shower head is new, beading him gentle with fever-hot water until his skin's pink, until he smells thoroughly like Jensen. He doesn't have to shave but he considers the razor anyway, holds it up to the light and counts the stubbly little hairs that haven't washed away. Some are dark, some coppery, others blond and all of them sacred.

The mirror's fogged when Jared gets out which is well enough. He doesn't like mirrors, doesn't like looking at his awkward in-between body but the sharp memories of Jensen touching him in places he ordinarily hates smooth it over a little.

Dreamy, he'd said.

Well, that can't be true.

He's sharp and scrappy and barely anything.

Jared towels of with his head tipped up to the skylight, eyes closed, lizard-leeching the heat into his bones, finding himself smiling when he steps back into Jensen's room to look for clothes. The carpet is so damn soft, skinned stuffed animals under his big feet. Habit leads him to the drawer that used to be his, the last on the left of the four small top drawers. He pulls it open and everything's still there and his heart cramps.

Jared's year-old clothes are still there, neatly folded. The t-shirt with the motorcycle on the front, the swim shorts with the big pink flowers and the white laces. And more underneath. He wants to take it out and catalog it, wants to fly downstairs and wrap himself around Jensen for keeping it but he doesn't. He brushes his fingers over the t-shirt and closes the drawer again, leaves it since none of it would fit anymore. That must be why Jensen didn't mention it. Must be.

Eventually, he makes it downstairs in Jensen's clothes. The white undershirt falls big on him, arm-holes revealing more of his ribs than he'd like. The boxers aren't any better, folded over at the waistband twice to keep them from sliding and even then, he feels like he's a second away from embarrassment.

The whole house smells like pancakes and bacon and coffee and he hasn't had an actual homecooked breakfast in so long.

And Jensen looks like a fucking wet dream, shirtless again, thickish thighs packed into sky-blue boxer briefs, sliding things onto plates, sipping at his hot coffee and bustling around humming while Jared stands in the doorway, gnawing at his lip. It's too good, it's all way too good and he considers that he may have been hit by a truck on the way here, that this might be a product of a damaged brain, that he may in fact be in a hospital bed somewhere.

Jensen sees him and smiles and his heart beats too fast for this to be a hallucination.

“There you are, c'mon,” he waves with a spatula, pulls out a stool for Jared like it's a date, like it's a movie.

Whatever it is, Jared's lost in it, bursting happy so fast he can't help but doubt it.

Everything's better on a full stomach though and he takes down the pancakes like he's a malnourished street urchin, lapping Jensen easily. They're good, of course, because everything Jensen does and is is good and Jared tells him full-mouthed, multiple times until Jensen cuffs him on the back of the head and tells him to shut up. There's a blush there though, rose-petal-pink on Jensen's cheeks and Jared memorizes it, memorizes the feeling of making Jensen blush too, for later, for when all he has is the memories of this.

Breakfast finished, Jensen slides his phone over from the end of the island, swipes it to life and goes for the front camera right away. On instinct, Jared slides away, wants no part of that, thank you very much but Jensen laughs.

“Jesus, Jay, c'mere. I wanna take a picture.” His arm slings easy around Jared's shoulders but Jared's still tense about it, unsure. He takes selfies, sometimes, looks for a second and deletes them right away, like defusing a bomb.

“I don't like pictures,” he grumbles, flips his head so his hair flops into his eyes again but Jensen doesn't listen.

“For me?” He asks and it's sugary sweet and he's blinking his eyes slow and long and very much on purpose and he's too close to say no.

“What...what d'you want me to do?”

“I dunno, just be cute.”

“Great,” Jared mutters and as soon as the phone comes up for real, as soon as he catches the faintest glimpse, he's hiding in Jensen's neck again.

“Noooo, c'mon, it's just for my facebook, it's not like anyone's gonna see it.”

“Je-en,” Jared whines from his safe space, from the only place he wants to inhabit now and for the rest of his days.

“Let everyone see your pretty face, Jay, please?” Jensen says it so earnestly Jared nearly believes it.

He does come out of hiding and kisses Jensen on the cheek with his eyes squeezed shut, presses his lips hard against that barely stubble-rough skin, perpetually warm, perfectly familiar. Jensen laughs and Jared hears the obnoxious shutter noise and it's done, there, the pact is sealed.

“Aww, look,” Jensen shows him the thing and Jared's eyes flutter looking at it. It is cute, okay, he can concede that and it's only because of Jensen's smile.

“You're not gonna post it, are you? Really?” He asks, can't remember seeing anything like it on Jensen's timeline. Everything else with friends is close, sure, arms around each other but no one's kissing, it's all chaste and sweet and this looks slightly charged, with Jared blushing, with Jensen's triumphant grin.

“'Catching up with my boy, Jay', how's that? Ugh, there's no breakfast emojis.”

Jared can't argue that. It zips through straight to his heart. _My boy._ Oh, he wishes and wishes it were true, and he shouldn't but he asks, “Am I really...am I yours? Your boy?”

“In a couple more months you're gonna be a _man_ so, I dunno,” Jensen mutters, fingers busily typing but he spares a glance a second later. “I mean...yeah.”

“Until Monday, you mean,” Jared grumbles, slides his eyes away and sighs a little, poking his finger into his cooling coffee. He hunches over the counter, forks the remnants of pancakes, swirls a melted chocolate chip around in some maple syrup, makes it a mess like how everything's a mess, or how everything will be, once the week starts. Once life starts again outside this bubble.

“We're gonna keep in touch.”

“Yeah, but,” Jared starts argumentative, starts like he's talking to his mom or the therapist or the guidance counselor but he sighs it off, starts again. “But it's not like...gonna be like this. Or like before. Or...anything.”

“Why not?” Jensen asks, puts down his phone, puts his head on his hand and looks right at Jared. He's not distracted. He's not arguing, he's just...there and he's so sweet and Jared feels his nerve, feels all that gall slipping away.

“Well, 'cause, you're busy. You got friends your own age. You got...I dunno, you got stuff. You probably have a thousand boyfriends.”

Jensen's eyebrows shoot up and his mouth quirks but he doesn't laugh and thank god because Jared knows he could not take that.

“I have _one_ boyfriend, and he's trying to worm himself out of it.”

Jared's face creases and he doesn't get it, not for a long few moments that are all held breath and pain like a stigmata, like a stake through his heart. Everything's over before it even started and that's it, that's his life. That's his whole life.

“I have _one boyfriend_ ,” Jensen starts again and his hand slides onto Jared's and he squeezes it and there's freckles there, on the back of it, in among the tendons. Freckles on his fingers and a few sunlit hairs too. His fingernails are short, immaculate, fingers thick and perfect and Jared isn't sure he can look him in the eyes while he continues. “And his name's Jared Padalecki and he didn't talk to me for a year and I tried really, really hard to be mad about that. But he showed up crying at my door one day, outta the blue, like a stray puppy and...”

Jared still can't look even when he stops talking. He stares at Jensen's hand, counts the freckles (10, 11, 12), feels something inside himself filling back up but it's too full now, he's too stuffed with goodness. “And then what?” he asks and the smile's evident in his voice, in the way it shakes just a bit, fraying fast around the edges.

“And then,” Jensen starts up again and his voice is a soft blanket, quiet and lovely, the loveliest sound there is, “And then my heart patched itself back up and remembered.”

“Remembered?”

“Yeah. Remembered I loved you, you idiot.”

It can't be true.

None of it seems anything like reality but Jensen's hand is warm and solid and and Jared remembers the drawer full of clothes waiting for him, like Jensen was waiting. Jared's happy and he's sorry and he lowers his mouth to Jensen's hand, kisses the knuckles, rubs against him like a cat. What can he say? What is there to say?

Jared lays his cheek against Jensen's hand and enjoys the blurry focus, the sugar rush emotions soaring, cresting. “You love me,” he whispers it like it's a secret, his eyes shut. “Did you love me before?”

“Before when?”

“Before now?”

“Well...yeah, prob'ly. Didn't know until you weren't here.”

“I knew right away,” Jared says, hums it out low against Jensen's hand and kisses his knuckles again. He can say it now, he can finally say it.

Jensen laughs though but even that's sweet at this point. “You did not.”

Jared can't actually remember; remembers walking into the house, remembers seeing Jensen like the tallest prettiest thing he'd ever seen in the world but it doesn't matter. He nuzzles Jensen's hand one more time and sits back up with a sigh but it's a happy one. “So...you're glad I came?”

“What, this morning?”

“No, oh my god,” Jared groans, blushes red for the billionth time. If they weren't on stools, he'd be in Jensen's lap. As it is, he scoots enough that their knees knock together, hyper-aware of how bony his are compared to Jensen's athletic dream-body. “Yesterday?”

“I woulda been happier if you'd called first. Or called like, ten months ago. Or -”

“You could've called me too.”

“Yeah,” Jensen shrugs one shoulder, reaches his arm over Jared's shoulders again and pulls him unsteady for a second until they get their balance, precarious though it is. “Thought you were probably...I dunno. Into something else. Maybe girls or soccer or some other guy. I mean, you were fifteen last time I saw you. Lotsa stuff changes.”

“This won't. This never will,” Jared blurts out. He's hot all over with the surge of it, with just saying it, talking about it. He feels a tug to the pool again, cool clean water that he can sink into, quit talking and forget himself.

He expects Jensen to laugh again but he doesn't, he _doesn't_.

“Feels like that, doesn't it?” Jensen considers, velvet-quiet-voiced again. “The way we just...it just starts up again.”

Jared nods, brushes his bangs back, doesn't have to hide. There's so much he wants to say, so many questions, thoughts, pointed observations but once he gets started he knows he won't be able to stop, not for days and he only has two left and one's already ticking away but it's going slow, at least. It isn't even noon.

“Still got those dimples,” Jensen says and his mouth quirks like he's trying not to smile but he can't help it and Jared didn't even know _he_ was smiling, still.

He means to duck his head but Jensen doesn't let him, grabs his chin and keeps him there, smiles like the sun breaching the clouds and kisses him slow and long and gentle. Jared's heart flutters like a baby bird's, his head spins and his arms fling around Jensen's neck, hands meeting at the back. There's no room but he doesn't need it, not to breathe, not for anything.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jensen Ackles drinks two cups of coffee in the morning and this is a new development. It used to be soda but coffee's marginally healthier, Jared figures, even though it doesn't taste as good. He's watching cup number two get finished off, smooth robin's egg blue china getting to kiss Jensen. Jared's jealous of a mug; this is the worst it's ever been.

The sky outside is not clear but the cerulean behind the clouds is bright. There's a lot of Texas sun and they're out in it by the pool, stretched out on the most comfortable deck chairs in the history of the world. Like a pair of cats. After this coffee number two, Jensen gets up and frowns, drags his chair noisily over closer but there's arm rests that won't go up.

Jared feels like that too but he doesn't say. He laughs and crawls over the butted together arms and tries to settle against the immeasurable warmth of Jensen. There isn't room anymore like that and it's mildly horrifying. Jared frowns, presses and jams and nope, there's no way. He mutters a swear.

“Wait, like this,” Jensen says like it's the a-ha moment and it is. He squirms, slides down with his back to Jared's chest and for a moment it's like getting crushed. He probably-definitely weighs more and it's mostly lean muscle and Jared notes the freckles again, everywhere. Shoulders, back. None on his neck though, just graceful length.

Jared sighs against that smooth skin and concedes that this works. Jensen's in his lap, leaning back against him, his ass gently settled across Jared's crotch, their legs twin v's.

“I think you grew just while you were here,” Jensen mutters, curls an arm up and around the back of Jared's head.

Maybe he did; everyday seems like a new half inch and his legs stretch out just a little longer than Jensen's. It doesn't seem like a death sentence anymore because his long-long arms reach around Jensen's middle, relax against the tops of his thighs, go anywhere he wants.

Jensen's leaning not quite fully against him, nearly all his weight and he can take it, he can take it with ease. Jensen squirms back a little, a playful roll of his hips that makes Jared punch out a breath. He's a tease, or would be.

“Can't believe your dick's bigger too. Bigger than mine, I think.”

“Nothing's bigger than yours,” Jared considers, sighing it out against Jensen's neck.

“Nah, it is, I saw. You're prob'ly not even done growing yet. God.” He finishes dreamily, wistfully, head tilting up to the sun. “You...we should do some stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Y'know, like...stuff? I can...well, you, since you got that big dick, you can fuck me.”

Jared feels his heart speed up like he's careening down a smooth open stretch of road and he can't believe it, can't believe those words came out of _that_ mouth, came out in a blustery rush like he was unsure, like _he_ was hesitating.

“Have you done that before?” Jared asks, can't think of what else to say but he'll die no matter what the answer is.

“No, not really,” Jensen answers, casual and Jared feels a shrug in his shoulder muscles, scraping warm against his chest. “I mean, I got this toy but it's little. Not like what you're packing.”

That's too much. Jared feels like his head's spinning, closes his eyes against the sun and that doesn't do any good either; Jensen's behind his eyelids spread out on his perfectly made bed with his legs open and he's on full display and Jared doesn't know why it's a pearly blue dildo, but it is. Maybe that's just from some porn he's seen but this is better than _that_ and he knows the real thing would be life-altering.

He daydreams like this a lot anyway, still and always about Jensen, so this is nothing new. He's taken Jensen-worship to artful levels of extreme self-indulgence.

But that Jensen's sitting in his lap when he thinks like that is something else. His dick stirs and Jensen definitely feels it, a little earthquake between them.

“Really are still sixteen, huh? Even though you look like a freakin' senior. Swear you could pass for my age.”

“Doubt it.”

“Could probably even take you out somewhere, a bar or something. I'm guessing you don't get a lotta recreation time.”

Jensen's right and Jared deflates about it, rests his chin sharp against Jensen's shoulder, digs in. “Mom made me sign up for like, a thousand extra-curriculars. Clubs and stuff. So I get into college. A _good_ one, and we can't pay so it's gotta be like, because I'm brilliant so I get scholarships and...ugh, it's so much stuff. So no, unless you count soccer with a drill sergeant coach, no time for fun.”

“Soccer, huh?”

“Forward.”

“ _Star_ forward? Cause I'm gonna spend a few minutes picturing it.”

“Stop, it's not...it's just soccer.”

“Yeah but those shorts. Y'wear a headband to keep all that hair back?”

Jared actually feels Jensen's heart beating faster through him, can't image why but he's hit on something Jensen likes, apparently. It's a weird surge of confidence but Jared rides it, needs something to latch himself on to.

“Yeah,” Jared licks his lips, close enough he knows Jensen can hear it. “And um...and shorts but they're kinda short now. Shorter than they should be?”

“Yeah, 'cause you're all legs. And torso. Neck. An' you don't like it,” Jensen finishes in a huff, squirming back, craning his neck to rub against Jared's face, to hum against his ear. “You're fucking hot, Jay. So hot and you don't even know it. Makes it so much worse.”

Jared doesn't say anything. He can't. None of this is actually possible. Jensen Ackles is the hottest thing on two legs and he thinks Jared is hot and there's something so wrong about it. Jared almost wants to cry again, feels the urge like a hard knot worked up in his throat but he swallows and it passes. Maybe one day he'll get used to this, maybe one day it'll lose it's magic but that is unlikely. Like how this entire thing is fucking unlikely.

“Sorry,” he tries, can't think of what else to say.

Jensen laughs and leans his full weight back, relaxes boneless and drapes his arms over where Jared's are, around his wast. Holds him there, in place. “I'm just gonna keep saying it until you believe me, dude. Get used to it.”

As if he could.

 

* * *

 

Saturday's the best. It's the best and they don't even really do anything. Jared manages to relax and that is a miracle he never even knew he needed. All the stress, the fight, the consternation leaves his bones somewhere in the middle of Saturday.

Maybe it's in the pool, when he jumped in naked after Jensen.

Could be it was half an hour later, when they laid out in the sun to dry off; Still naked, beach towels on the soft manicured grass. Touching, always touching, fingertips restless on each other because it's been too long.

There's the shower too. Supposed to be a quick rinse but the downstairs shower's so big, they both fit. Jared ends up backed against the wall while Jensen presses kisses all over and ends up with his tongue in Jared's mouth. Jared's still dripping wet against the bathroom counter when Jensen gets on his knees and sucks the life out of his dick. Maybe that's what relaxes him the most.

It's hard to say. But Saturday is definitively the best day Jared's had in a long goddamned time. They end it with slapdash barbecue and stargazing. Jared would look at anything, as long as he could cram next to Jensen on the warm grass, the solid earth just as grounding as Jensen's heated chest rising under him.

 

* * *

 

Sunday has to come though. Of course it does. Jared prays before he falls asleep that he won't wake up just so he doesn't have to live through it. Their last day. Last full day together. This is it. For everything Jensen said at breakfast the day before, Jared still doesn't believe it's real. After this, they'll go back to their own lives. Call, text, yeah, sure, he did promise to pick up the phone but that's not the same as this easy intimacy. Not the same as falling asleep with Jensen tucked into his arms, breathing on his chest. Not the same.

Jared does wake though and it's not bad, instantly very, very awesome because Jensen's perfect mouth wakes him up, sucking marks into his skin, onto his chest and up and up until Jared's panting his eyes open.

“Mornin' there,” Jensen hums against his skin, glances up with a sparkle in his sleepy eyes and a tiny beautiful smile curving the edges of his petal-pink lips. “Mornin', baby,” he reiterates like he's trying it out, carefully watching Jared for some desired effect.

Jared grins lazy-wide, slides a hand into Jensen's hair and stretches, preens under the attention, at the stupid term of endearment that somehow doesn't sound half so stupid when Jensen says it to him. He's too quickly woke to say anything, settles for a groan instead of words and figures it doesn't matter too much since Jensen continues.

“Didn't wanna wake you,” he mumbles deep against Jared's skin, mouthing at his collarbone, nipping at the bony jut of it. “But you looked fuckin' edible, y'know?”

No, no he doesn't know, he can't imagine it but if Jensen says it, it must be true. He laughs silently instead, already breathless for all the attention, for the startling and amazing wake up.

“Wasn't gonna do this again. Was gonna let you sleep, wanted to wait until later,” Jensen babbles his way down, down past Jared's small round nipples. Low voice against Jared's sensitive skin and he shudders, breaks out in goosebumps everywhere, doesn't notice he's hard, he's _been_ hard, until Jensen skims past it with his chest and settles between his legs.

Jensen doesn't hesitate, not that he ever has but he knows what he's doing, he's got a plan or a thirst or both.

“Remember how easy this used to be?” Jensen asks but it's not particularly wistful and yes, Jared does remember.

Kind of somehow remembers every single time Jensen's lips touched his formerly little dick, how he used to pop it in his hot mouth with his balls, how he used to make Jared come in seconds. He still could with that look, easy. The room's not as bright as Saturday morning but it's because Jensen's eyes suck up all the light in the universe, glowing up at Jared, wide open, smiling, eager. He doesn't use his hands, all mouth chasing Jared's dick down.

And down and down.

Jared gasps, untrained hips bucking so hard Jensen chokes but he doesn't move off, just grunts determined and keeps at it and it's so good. Didn't even feel this good yesterday in the bathroom and maybe it's because he woke up like this, hard and wanting and Jensen's the one who got him that way.

“God, that is...god,” Jensen comes up drooling, a rough hitch to his voice.

“Don't stop,” Jared manages, mouth agape, eyes fixing obsessively on Jensen past his rising chest (fast, too fast because his heart is exploding again and it always will).

“Gotta breathe,” Jensen mutters, laughs.

Jared swallows hard, nods, a little thrum of embarrassment because he's out of control needy and maybe it's too much for Jensen, maybe he's turning into some kind of monster but he's always been that way for Jensen.

Hasn't he?

“Relax, you're good,” Jensen assures him, nuzzles his thigh, finally uses his hands. They're soft, big thick fingers dancing up Jared's shaft in ultra-slow motion. He palms it, squeezes, tongues up the same trail and his sunbright eyes sink shut.

Jared sees stars behind his eyelids, actual stars like he's oxygen deprived and dying. He half-thinks he might still be in a ditch somewhere breathing his last breath.

But no. No.

It's too real, Jensen taking him in his mouth again, humming so it feels twice, three, ten thousand times as good. Looking down makes it a billion times better-worse and he has to shut his eyes again. His hands blind find Jensen's hair, long enough to grab and he likes it, he must because he moans around Jared's dick when he tugs at the summery blond strands, fine silk under his fingers.

Jared's sinking, drowning in this perfect mouth and the soft sheets and this life that's going to disappear in the blink of an eye but for now he has this, for now this is the best he can do.

Seconds stretch and blink by in strange nonsense time. Minutes fill up entirely with groans and sloppy wet noises and breaths hitching and Jared comes too fast again, _again_ , body going rigid, fingers tugging Jensen's hair until his knuckles are white. No noise then because there's no breath to be had and those parts of him can't catch up to his dick anyway.

Jensen swallows like he did before and Jared watches that starry-eyed and breath-held, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Jensen fucking licks his lips when he pulls off and Jared dies a little again.

“You're still too good at that,” Jared half-complains.

Jensen slides back up his body, his erection jamming up on Jared's hip, thick, throbbing, dripping. Jared reaches down automatically, instinctively, curls his fist around the length and tugs hard, hard enough for Jensen to swear.

“Whoa, jesus, you got some grip there,” Jensen laughs, restlessly humping against Jared's hand like this is gonna go quick and maybe later they can slow down. Maybe. Jensen tucks in against Jared, moans smooth and long. “Stronger than you look, y'know.”

“Yeah?” Jared breaths out quick like he's the one getting jerked off, eyes trained on the delicious length of Jensen's familiar dick in his hand, watching out of body while he pulls it off.

“Fuck yeah,” Jensen says and he shows no signs of shutting up and that's something new, something lovely shiny new. “Yeah, I'm...I'm thinkin' 'bout you holding me down. While you're fucking me. Like shoving my neck down, my shoulders. Fuck, grabbing at my hips and shit.”

Oh he _thinks_ about that? He spends time considering it as a real and viable option and Jared's breath holds in shy, not sure he can do it, not sure at all if he's up to that task.

“I-I'll do that, then,” Jared says anyway, whispers out the dirty talk strange, his tongue like weird lead in his mouth but Jensen groans, sighs _yeah, yeah Jay_ and he's not going to stop now. “I'll...I'll bend you over, right? I'll do it...do it in the kitchen over the counter and I won't even tell you before, I'll just shove you down...right?”

“ _Fuck_ yes, just like that. Big hands,” Jensen's panting against him in hot puffs, voice higher, like how Jared remembers it from before, and his whole body feels tight and trembling. “Just-just shove me down and finger me open, those long fingers, jesus, it'll be good, so fucking good like that, Jay, gonna come just on your hand, swear I could.”

Jared hadn't thought of _that_ before and now he can't stop wondering, can't stop staring at how his fingers (they are long, aren't they) wrap all the way around Jensen's dick even though it's unforgivably thick, choking-hazard wide.

“What else, what else,” Jensen pants, chants it and Jared has nothing, not a single thing left in the tank. It's so clumsy, feels so stupid, first-time dirty talk and he can't be doing good at it, even if Jensen is twitching, throbbing hard in his hand.

“Um, uh, I guess...I guess then I'd fuck you, right?” Jared says, hates his voice right there, how high it is, how it's a question. There's no frame of reference for this, for fucking Jensen, let alone talking about it.

But Jensen chuckles as much as he can without full breath so it's okay, everything's okay. “Yeah, you'd fuck me. You're gonna fuck me. Gonna fuck me on that overgrown dick there, Jay, and we're both gonna fucking explode. Gonna be so good.”

“Y-yeah, yeah, it is,” Jared manages but that's gotta be it. His throat's try and tongue-tied is an understatement. And Jensen's blinking sweet up at him like he wants more but there isn't more. He can't keep up and he can't get soft but there's other things to do with his mouth.

Jensen pants ragged, watches wide-eyed and Jared stares back past the prickles of nerves and excitement and everything else on his way down Jensen's body. He's smooth, tan, ribs heaving and abs ghosting with every breath and he's perfect, he's just fucking perfect.

Used to be Jared couldn't get his mouth around Jensen's dick. Used to feel like his face was splitting open just to try and for a while, they settled for little baby kitten licks, for sucking on the head like the sweetest candy and then sometimes, sometimes it'd work halfway or a little more and Jensen would spill but now?

Oh god, _now_.

The second Jared's down there, in that promised land, the holiest of holies, he ripples joy and grins up because he knows he can do it.

He presses Jensen's pretty red dick up against his flat stomach, licks up (and up and up) and fuck it, fuck waiting and fuck the intervening year and the nerves and fuck all of that, Jared sucks Jensen's head into his mouth and he keeps going, feels him twitch so sweet, feels his heartbeat through his cock against his tongue and he loves it like nothing else.

Jensen makes the best noises, voice delicate and high, strung out sing-song moans. He grips hard at Jared's hair, tugs his bangs back in his fist and for once, Jared doesn't need them to hide, doesn't even want to. Because it's Jensen that has to look away, teeth clenched, neck craning back. He pants, “Jay, Jay,” like some prayer and his body bows hard and that is it.

Jared moans around Jensen's dick, wants to cry for the millionth time when Jensen shoots in his mouth, at the back of his throat which really just makes it easier to swallow everything. The view up Jensen's body is delicious and he's so lost wading in it, keeps bobbing and sucking until Jensen hisses and blinks his eyes open and laughs breathless with his candy lips wide open.

“God, fuck,” Jensen shudders full bodied and Jared presses his thumbs against his hipbones, curls his hands around the delicious width there until Jensen jerks away with a laugh and, “Fuck, I can't, c'mere, c'mere.”

Jared wastes zero time slinking up Jensen's body, licking his taste off his lips and hovering over him.

Jensen's just staring, eyes wide and bright, mouth perfectly open for Jared to claim as his, _his_.

And Jensen melts soft and yields quick and maybe just for today, just for that minute, Jared knows it's all true.

 

* * *

 

 

It's warm. It's a warm day and the kitchen's just as full up with light as it can get. Big and bright and Jared stacks it up against his apartment kitchen's outdated avocado green; it looks grimy even when it's sparkling and he doesn't relish the thought of cramming down breakfast in it on Tuesday morning. And he definitely doesn't want Jensen to see it, ever. The very notion makes his heart pound against his ribcage.

Jensen Ackles does not belong in his grubby little two bedroom walk up. Nothing could be more horrible.

No, Jensen Ackles belongs in the bright white of his kitchen, right here, across the island from Jared. Belongs in this too-big tank top, the same one Jared wore yesterday, interestingly enough. Belongs, somehow, swanning around the stove and cooking for him again and if Jared knew how to cook at all, he'd make it up to him. But he doesn't, yet.

“Maybe...you can teach me how to do pancakes sometime?” Jared says, watches closely but it's no substation for the careful instruction he's sure Jensen's capable of. “I feel kinda bad that you're doing so much for me and I'm just like...sitting around.”

“Uh, you blew me this morning, that's not nothin'.”

“You blew me first. And yesterday. So, like - “

“You don't _owe_ me,” Jensen says, dripping sarcasm and rolling his eyes, “It's not like that. I wanted to do it. So I did it. Both times. And, y'know, probably later too.”

Later.

Jared can't help but smile at that thought. Later; Jensen's mouth on him again later. Maybe in the backyard, with the sun dipping down. Maybe in the shower again. In the bedroom while they're drowsy and sliding towards sleep or maybe even on the couch in the soft glow of the television.

Anywhere's good.

“But,” Jensen starts again, squints like he's thinking, pokes his tongue around his cheek from the inside, “If you really do feel like you gotta make it up to me..I mean...you're gonna be fucking me pretty soon.”

Jared's whole body reacts to that; his palms sweat and his cheeks flare up in a fierce blush and of course his dick goes rogue, twitches with interest and anticipation.

“You really meant all that?” he asks and it's breathless and he's still shocked, somehow.

“Dude, yeah.” Jensen pulls a face and veers back around to their second helping of pancakes, both perma-famished but especially this weekend. “That wasn't just dirty talk. I mean it was but I really want you to do that. All that.”

Jared watches the back of Jensen, his loose shoulders, the barely-wide expanse that tapers down so tiny to his waist. And then, there it is, his ass in baby-blue boxer-briefs, a swell of muscle from lacrosse, from all the swimming. God, it's perfect like how Jensen's perfect everywhere, like the perfect expression of him in a single body part.

Naturally, Jared's still staring when Jensen turns around.

Because a truckload of embarrassment isn't enough, this has to happen.

Maybe he didn't notice, Jared prays but the smirk says otherwise. And the raised eyebrow. _And_ best-worst of all, the blush in his cheeks.

It makes Jared bold, makes his blood rush fast and heady and he grins, spreads his hands out on the cool marble. “So...you really want me to fuck you here? Like, right here?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, licks his lips and huffs out a breath, “Jesus, yeah. Lemme just...finish the pancakes.”

“Alright, I'll allow it,” Jared dares and fights hard not to break into giggles over it because it feels so silly, like something he shouldn't be playing at but it feels kinda good too, watching Jensen react.

Because he likes it.

That alone lets Jared crawl out of his standard hole of self-doubt. Lets him fix a steady gaze on Jensen while he keeps cooking, while he eats. Yeah, that mouth is distracting as hell, especially dripping syrup but Jared's got his eyes on the prize now.

Mostly.

Jensen's clearing the plates when Jared clears his throat, doesn't want to ask but he has to or he can't do anything else. The question gnaws at him, digs claws in and threatens everything. “After today, we're still gonna see each other, right? This isn't just like...just a weekend thing?”

Might be. Could be. It's easy to look rosy when you're in it but Jared can't trust himself, can barely trust anything.

Except the gentle way Jensen turns, drapes over the marble and reaches for his hands. “Hey, this is a _thing_ now. You an' me. It's not like before. Before was all...it was all circumstance, y'know? T was just when our folks got together. Happenstance. But this is a decision. So I'm makin' the decision to see you whenever I can.”

“Okay,” Jared says slow, his eyes fluttering to their hands, to Jensen's on top of his, barely dusted with freckles and tanned, so tanned. “Okay, but...how? There's school and stuff. I don't wanna end up like...like mom and your dad.”

“I've got a car, dumbass. You're like, a ten minute drive away. I got this whole week off. I can see you whenever I want. I know you got a lot on your plate but if we make an effort, it'll work.” Jared looks up to watch Jensen's placid face sink into a little frown, just a tiny crease between his brows. “I mean, if you want it to. Hoping you do.”

Jared nods, nods with his heart in his mouth and his brain in his dick.

There's too much to think about and the least of it is actually fucking Jensen.

But there's riding in his car.

There's Jensen picking him up after school.

There's a fully formed daydream where Jensen takes him nowhere, to a park or an overlook and they sit and talk or don't and kiss or don't and god, he wants all of that, wants to make up so damn hard for a year apart.

And it's comfortable suddenly to look into Jensen's eyes, sea-glass green-blue and alight, on fire. And it feels good to have his hands there, atop Jared's own. And he's not close enough, not at all.

In a hasty second, Jared's around the other side of the island with him,pressing against his back, arms looped around him and squeezing hard and he doesn't ever want to let go. Stray bits of Jensen's barely-blond hair brush at his nose. This is it, this is where he needs to be.

He swells wanting to say it, wanting to tell Jensen how much he loves him. He can't remember if it's ever come out before, either by accident or on purpose. They used to talk so much, used to spent hours and hours laying around and saying everything and anything but somehow, Jared doesn't think he's said it.

He won't, not right now.

But if he holds on tight enough, maybe Jensen can feel it through their bones, through the tangle of bodies and the skin-on-skin.

Jensen's sigh is content, is peaceful, says volumes.

They're just there like that and the kitchen is full of light and it's good.

Jared wants to ruin it, just a little.

At least, his head ruination lays ahead, but he doesn't believe it. Not this time, not that old trap.

“You want me to do it here?” he asks, not without pause but without latching onto that nervous edge. “Right?”

“Right,” Jensen repeats, swallows. Jared feels his heart pick up between them, bang-bang fast and strong and he did that, _he did that_.

And more besides.

Jared gets a hand between them, presses into Jensen's back between his shoulder blades and shoves and he said he wanted that, didn't he? To get pushed around?

There's a gasp before Jensen goes with it, and a sweet breathless laugh when he drapes himself over the island and pushes back, grinds against Jared's crotch.

Now, all of Jensen's beautiful back stretches out in front of him, his tanned arms reaching for the other side of the island to grip at it for leverage.

“This what you wanted?” Jared asks, feels a bit foolish making his voice low like that but Jensen jams harder against him so yeah, that must be it, must be good.

“Gettin' there,” he says back, strained voice all high and sweet.

What next?

Jared wonders if he can turn off his brain. Sometimes if he's played enough soccer, if he's gone for a particularly long bike ride, it quiets down. But he's all jitters with Jensen laid out before him. He takes a deep breath. Concentrates. Jensen's skin under his fingers. The soft give of his ass when he pushes back. Jared's already at least half-hard so he ruts harder, tugs at Jensen's waistband until there's nothing between them but Jared's shorts, which are Jensen's anyway.

The moan and the soft yield give Jared something to hitch on to. The sweet hidden skin just revealed, not tanned like the rest of Jensen. Jared marvels at it, strokes it, finds the freckles and watches his fingers raise goosebumps.

Then he drapes over Jensen, covers him like he didn't think he'd be able to do and reaches around for his dick. Also hard. Not a surprise.

Jensen moans again, punched out and half a laugh, his cheek squished against the smooth marble of the island. “Christ, you're big. I can feel your dick, y'know. Like, every inch.”

“Yeah?” Jared smirks, surges more self-confidence like a wave and he'll ride that too, no problem. He tugs his own shorts down and springs himself free and crams right up against Jensen again. Kicks his legs open, humps up into the divide. Has no fucking idea how he's supposed to cram himself inside of Jensen but Jensen's optimism is utterly infectious.

“Uh huh, yeah, can't fucking _wait_ ,” Jensen drawls, closes his eyes and rocks up onto his toes. “I uh, stashed some lube. Earlier. It's in the fruit bowl?”

He thinks of everything. It's marvelous.

Jared doesn't have to move far to get it, only has to nudge an orange and an ironic banana out of the way. It's a half-full bottle and he wants to hear Jensen account for all of it, wants to hear about every time he touched himself, every time he fucked himself with that toy, whatever it is.

Maybe after.

It's still like a dream.

Jared pulls back and the view is outstanding and he's gotta get _in there_. With Jensen porno-spread, the tiny curl of his asshole's on display and that's where he's gotta go. Fingers first, of course.

“So I just...” Jared starts and trails, looking from his index finger (okay yeah, that's bigger than he realized) to Jensen's dark pinkness (there's the tiniest dust of ginger fuzz nearby, catching the light and he'll always remember that) to the lube.

“Y'ever watched porn before or what?” Jensen laughs but it's not mean and it's actually a little tremulous with nerves (or something) and Jared shares a computer with his mom and his little sister so it's not like he gets to watch porn on the regular. Not as often as he'd like and not remotely hardcore. Sometimes he just gets off to youtubes of buff guys that look vaguely like Jensen. Buff guys dancing, buff guys wrestling. Fully or half clothed but not doing _this_.

“Pad of your finger,” Jensen instructs quickly like they're on the clock. “Just like...rub.”

“Right,” Jared says and that's pretty obvious, isn't it? The lube's a little cold but Jensen's all heat, the tight little furl clenching hard when Jared does as instructed and rubs. There's a give too, not a lot but he presses and Jensen swallows the tip of his finger up and gasps and sighs and groans so pretty.

“Yeah, you got it,” he practically slurs, lazy against the island, against Jared's burgeoning assault.

It's tight, like, cutting off circulation tight the further Jared gets in there. It's just one finger, it's just his index but it _is_ long. All the muscle is fascinating, one ring on the outside and then another and he tries-tries hard not to think about what it's going to feel like on his dick.

It's going to feel like heavnen, he's going to want to die, he's never going to want to leave Jensen's ass or this house or this beautiful magical weekend.

Not now, don't think about any of it now. Just do it.

It's an appropriate slogan.

“Shit, that's already big,” Jensen reports, laughter in his voice again under that edge of tremor that's somehow so fucking hot.

“Am I going too fast?”

“Fuck no,” Jensen answers immediately, “Fuck no, this isn't even gonna last long. Pretty sure.”

“Yeah,” Jared agrees, pulls back so he can watch. He curls his other hand around Jensen's hip, digs in and Jensen tips up and jesus christ, that looks even better than before. Thick thighs and the swell of his ass and this teeny tiny little waist. Jared's going to explode before he even gets in there.

Maybe Jensen is too.

“Do two, do another finger, Jared, hurry it up,” he begs, rocks back and he wants it so damn bad, it's still mystifying.

“Okay, okay,” Jared huffs out a breath and he can't move fast enough. More lube, that can't be bad, right? He pulls out and coats two fingers, watches Jensen's hole close up at the same time as he moans and pushes back again, like he can't stand a second of emptiness. It's fucking entrancing though, how quickly he's warmed to it. How easy he opens at the press of Jared's two fingers.

Like he's made for it.

He moans even louder and Jared's panting, gnawing his lips red. His hand's not on Jensen's hip anymore, no, he needs it on his dick, squeezing, imagining what this is gonna feel like.

“Good? Feel good, Jen?”

No answer but garbled noise that's more like music.

Jared keeps going against the compression, nearly too tight. He's not even fucking him, not really. It's too slow to be called _that_ but it's working. They're both losing it fast and if Jared has to wait another minute, two, three, he's going to burst. If he stopped looking, it might help but Jensen's ass is a treasure and the way he's bent over, Jared can see everything, big balls drawn up tight and his dick too big to defy gravity, really, swinging hard and thick and he reaches through Jensen's bracketed legs to grab it, stroke it odd angled.

Jensen's completely in his hands now. Completely his as far as the eye can see.

He cranes his neck around to smile open mouthed at Jared, panting. “Doin' so good, Jay, 'm gonna blow in like, two seconds, swear. Wanna just...wanna just fuck me?”

Jared shakes out a breath and nods and blinks, goes stupid for a moment with the implication that it's actually happening, right here right now and, shit, “Uh, should we...condoms? D'you...”

Jensen shakes his head, rocks his ass up again, again. “No, no, it's fine, we don't need anything. Cause...I haven't, you haven't, it's fine, it'll be fine.”

Like a thousand safe sex lectures replay in Jared's head but fuck that. Fuck it. They're easy enough to ignore when he's knuckle deep, when Jensen's telling him no.

“Just fuck me?” Jensen says again like it's his manta and maybe it will be, after this. “Lube, put more lube on your dick, c'mon. I can't wait.”

“M-me either,” Jared can't help the stutter and he can't move fast enough. Lube's slightly cold on his molten dick but eyes on the prize. The prize, still spread open, eating up his fingers.

That Jensen watches is a little unnerving; his eyes blink slow, seem to trail over every movement of Jared's hand on his dick. His teeth bite into that pink bottom lip and even when Jared shuffles closer, slides his slick cock against the whole spread, Jensen's still watching. Watching his face now but Jared's fixated on his fingers slipping out of Jensen's hole, the slight gape that he doesn't give a chance to close.

It's too late to stop once he's there and he didn't mean to go soso fast (but maybe he did) and what was supposed to be a curious tap of his leaking dick against Jensen turns into his head slipping in, popping in so nice and snug and his whole body shudders and Jensen's too.

Nothing's been like this before. Tight, hot, wet and clenching.

Jared sighs, “Fuck,” with all the breath in his body, his hands gasping Jensen's cushion hips and enveloping them. Everything so snug and good and another inch is too too much; Jared comes too fast to warn Jensen, too fast to say anything and too hard to even scream, his breath held and brain somewhere in vertigo.

“Oh my god, did..are you, oh fuck, Jay, yeah, _yeah_ ,” Jensen cheerleads him, squirms a hand between them and the island and strokes his dick just a few times before he's there too, coming full-bodied so Jared feels everything, every little shudder of his beautiful, perfect body.

Jared isn't even fully in there and there's a mess, Jensen's jizz dripping onto the floor and his own nearly gushing back out except he pushes in further, half on his own and half spurred by the clench of Jensen sucking him in.

Wall of groans, then, and Jared doesn't know which noises are his anymore. Doesn't care.

“Sorry,” he manages, “Sorry I - “

“No, nono, don't stop, 'kay? I can go again, promise. Just...feels so good. Wanna feel all of you in there, Jay. Every fucking inch.”

“Oh,” Jared breaths out, relieved, smiling lazy and there's no chance he's going soft now. None at all.

And, actually, the come slicking his way just makes it easier, makes it dirty-hotter because his dick's covered in it, some dripping down Jensen's meaty thighs at the same time and it is quite the sight.

And now, now he can really fuck him. Last longer. Last forever.

He doesn't think to move Jensen somewhere better, easier. He couldn't forsake the view Jensen bent over the counter affords him and he wouldn't want to. Lots of time for that later, for every position in the book.

It's better than anything, ties them tight together in a secret perfect way, like blood brothers with come instead.

Jared loves every noise Jensen makes, memorizes them as best he can so they'll be there forever, in his mind, just waiting. Not just Jensen's noises though, but the slap of skin on skin is good too, the clatter of the stool beside them falling over when Jared tries to get his leg up on it for more leverage. They both laugh and don't care, not one fucking bit. There's talking too, little snatches of half-finished phrases and praise and it's mostly Jensen, dick-drunk babbling sweet nonsense at Jared.

He's mid-stream when he comes again, without even a hand on his dick, just from Jared pumping in fast, hard, all the way. Jared holds it when he feels that clench starting, in fucking balls deep and pushing Jensen up onto his toes to take it deeper than he should but the moan, the scrabbling hands white-knuckled against the island tiles, the whole scene says he fucking loves it.

Jensen's boneless then, draped out under him and Jared hunches so he's covering him everywhere, so he can mouth at Jensen's neck, barely-sweaty and he barely moves, barely has to to fill Jensen up again.

He can't talk this time either, maybe he never will and it doesn't matter because his mouth is busy anyway, marking Jensen outside like he's done inside, like he wants to do to his guts too.

“Fuck, fuck that's fucking deep,” Jensen moans under him, squirms a little, gasps for breath.

Jared unsticks himself, peels back up and notices for the first time that his legs are fucking jelly, like he's run too many laps and he doesn't want to pull out (ever) but he's gotta collapse somewhere.

They end up on the floor., end up mashed together in an absolute mess. Jensen nuzzles him like a cat, kisses him like he's going to die. “Fuck, Jay,” he says, repeatedly, shakey-sated and glowing brighter than his usual incandescence.

“Yeah,” Jared agrees. His heart won't stop pounding and he's never never been more in love, he's pretty sure of that. It stings him inside, goosebumps him up under the sweat. Say it, say it but he can't. Not that. “There's like...two. Two loads in you,” he says instead and Jensen laughs deliriously against his skin.

“Oh my god, yeah there is. All yours. That's all I ever want in me now. Got spoiled.”

“Dirty. Dunno if I can eat in this kitchen again.”

“I have to. Every morning. Fuck, that's...I'm never gonna stop thinking about it.”

“Really?” Jared asks and it sounds so full of hope that he hates it a little, the betrayal of his voice but Jensen kisses his shoulder, bites at the meat and skitters his fingertips into Jared's hair and christ, he knows it's true.

“Never. Never ever.”

“Me either. I'm...Jen, I never wanna leave. I don't wanna go back home, I just wanna stay here with you and...just wanna be with you like, forever. I just - “

“I know, it's okay. Gonna be okay.”

“What if it's not? What if-”

“Nope,” Jensen cuts him off and really, thank god because Jared does not want to be going there, doing that, letting his mouth and his monkey brain run away like that. “No what ifs. It's gonna be okay. You got me, 'kay?”

And when Jensen pulls his head out from Jared's shoulder, finally, and when he looks at him like that, _that_ , Jared lunges to kiss him, sloppy-hard and reckless and he feels it all go, untethering him, letting him freefall.

Finally.

 

* * *

 

Monday morning's not so bad after all.

It might be the last day waking up to Jensen's warm body against him like that but it doesn't seem like doomsday. It's warm and sunny and Jensen feeds him and he piles into the Jeep in Jensen's clothes, some cargo shorts hitched up with a belt and a baby blue v-neck that Jensen picks out for him. Says it makes his skin glow but Jared knows it has nothing to do with the colour.

They blast cheesy pop on the drive into town; Jensen sings at the top of his lungs with the windows down, even manages to coerce Jared into belting out a few lines that make his face red.

Of course the city comes up too fast, traffic slow and noisy and Jared did not miss the exhaust fumes one bit. His school is crowded, cars packing the streets, people darting in all directions, buses honking over-loud but Jensen weaves through it all calm and collected, pulls into the back parking lot and doesn't cut the engine. He grabs a handful of t-shirt and tugs Jared over for a kiss that lasts forever.

It's still not enough.

The first bell goes and Jared climbs out, unhitches his bike from the rack in the back and doesn't care who sees, doesn't care at all when he pads over to the driver's window and leans in, kisses Jensen one last time with everything he has.

“Pick you up after school, big guy,” Jensen croons against his lips and Jared nods quick, turns so Jensen can't see the blush.

But he grins his way to class and tastes Jensen on his lips the whole day and it's enough.

 


End file.
